


What speaks stronger than words

by Sandra296



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cuddles, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Misunderstandings, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Protective Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 02:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21384829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandra296/pseuds/Sandra296
Summary: Expressing himself has never been the strongsuit of Felix.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 70
Collections: Felix/Byleth_Golden_Deer





	What speaks stronger than words

“Be careful, the Death Knight shows a weird obsession on you,” Felix warned Byleth solemnly before they set out attacking Mercues. “Refrain from any risky tactics that put yourself in danger.”  
  
It was not that Felix was a pro-adventurous fighter, but Byleth had a feeling that the warning seemed – off – coming from him. “Didn’t you just tell me don’t get myself killed before Gronder? I do appreciate your concern, but pray tell if I’m being too risky recently? After all, I have the responsibility of keeping as many allies alive as possible.”  
  
“No.” Felix answered simply. Seeing the unsatisfied frown on Byleth, he added. “I don’t think you are putting anyone including yourself in unnecessary danger.”  
  
“Then are you implying I’m slacking off in my training?”  
  
“Not that either.”  
  
“Then I can’t understand why you tell me this so frequently. You know there is always a chance of casualty being me. So is the way of war.”  
  
A frustrated growl came from Felix’s throat. He gritted his teeth and glared at her. “You don’t understand, do you?” He questioned angrily, almost like an accusing.  
  
“If you don’t tell me, how can I understand **anything** you are saying?” Byleth was confused as hell.  
  
Felix stumped away without a word.  
  


* * *

As they were entering Mercues Castle in disguise, Byleth tried hard not to snort out at Claude’s flamboyant and totally useless acting of swordplay. Such naturally dramatic actions.  
  
But it worked perfectly for them. They were granted entry into the stronghold without much questioning, while the imperial soldiers were busy fighting the Almyra arm off.  
  
“What would I do without you,” Byleth murmured under breath, voice strained from hardly repressed laughter. “Claude?”  
  
She heard a loud annoyed huff come from somewhere in their battalion, but Byleth could not found who uttered the sound. “Claude is doing his part so admiringly,” Hilda winked at her and smiled smugly, “though I still hope to see him in a lovely dress, preferably pink.”  
  
Lorenz let out suffering long sigh. “And I still fail to see what you wish to accomplice in forcing him into an ill-fitting, lady’s cloth.”  
  
“Ill-fitting? No, I’ll make the dress fit perfectly. That much I have confidence.” Hilda retorted merrily. “And maybe it is so beautiful that you and Ferdinand would love to have a try too!”  
  
Ferdinand had not expected to be mentioned and jumped on his horse, the metal shield banged loudly onto his thigh’s armor, causing him to hiss in pain. “I’ve always strived to fulfill ladies’ wish, but forgive me, this is not acceptable for me!”  
  
“I’m sure it is fun, but chatting time is over and here comes the tricky part.” Byleth then called out, raising her volume, “Everyone, to my command!”  
  
So the battle began.  
  
With the imperial trop caught in surprise and the battle went well for them. Too well even, for the Death Knight was retreating before anyone of the main force could reach his position in the midst of stronghold.  
  
“Is the Death Knight fleeing?” Felix pulled his sword free from a fallen enemy and asked a nearby Byleth.  
  
“I’m afraid so.” She sighed. “A set back. But don’t worry, the battle is going in our way and we can take the stronghold before long, which is what we came for.”  
  
“Tell Claude to intercept him.”  
  
“I –” What Byleth was going to say was lost in the intense battle. Across the stronghold that fell into chaos, Byleth saw Claude was engaged in a fight with the Death Knight. Not before a handful of exchanges Byleth realized it was the Death Knight who had the upper hand. Mounted on a wyvern therefore unable to use a bow with longer range, Claude was completely in the reach of the Death Knight’s absurd scythe. While the arrows of Claude were flying with great strength, they seemed to be insufficient to even slow his opponent down. On the other hand, the heavy scythe enchanted with dark magic was definitely lethal for light-armored Claude. Usually Claude preferred the shoot-and-run tactics, but it would not work with the field swarmed with imperial cavalry. His Almyra allies were being injured and slayed in order to keep his pace. They had penetrated deep into the stronghold, bringing confusion and fear into the enemy, which was more than enough for Byleth’s side to take the stronghold squarely. They had their hands full.  
  
Byleth called forward a messenger on wyvern’s back. “Tell Claude to abandon engaging the Death Knight! Let the knight run. Just defend the position. There is no reinforcement sufficient and in time.” The messenger repeated rightly and Byleth let him fly away.  
  
Byleth pulled her Pegasus higher, and found Ferdinand was dodging awkwardly under the spells of a mage, whose armor was a perfectly roasting pot for enemies wielding flames, despite the resistance to blades and arrows.  
  
“Felix, you push forward steadily from here with Cyril.” Byleth called before flying to Ferdinand’s rescue. Her Pegasus glided toward the enemy mage. Byleth raised her sword, waiting for the best time to swing. Suddenly the mage noticed her. But it was too late and he fell with a scream under Byleth’s sword. Ferdinand yelled his gratefulness and Byleth urged her Pegasus higher again. An enemy longbowman shot an arrow to her messenger to Claude, which missed the rider but stuck into the wyvern. The wyvern howled, crashing unto a rooftop. Byleth cursed.  
  
To her relief, Claude had given up eliminating the Death Knight here and now, and pulled back to help his Almyra allies. Well, they could not go so far if not understand each other. The Death Knight turned away from the north wall, now charging to the northwestern opening of the stronghold.  
  
As Byleth’s sight soaring across the battlefield, she found Felix deeply in trouble. He charged right into middle of the stronghold, where there were with the densest imperial troops. Even with Cyril covering his sides with continuous and deadly shooting, he was still circled by a bunch of elite enemy warriors.  
  
Byleth called Ferdinand and Linhardt to following her, eyes never leaving Felix for too long. A spear slipped through Felix’s defense and punctured into his side. Byleth’s heart clutched tightly. Felix growled and grabbed the wooden shaft. He ripped it out and within an instant his sword was buried deep in the offender’s chest.  
  
A Pegasus rider found the easy prey as Felix staggered to stand straight. Her lance narrowly missed Felix, but the hove of the horse struck at Felix’s arm and sent him falling down.  
  
Rage burned inside Byleth despite her effort to remain composed. As Ferdinand charged to the enemies on ground, she flied to the Pegasus rider, lance out shinning in thirsty cold light. The enemy’s lance missed Byleth while hers struck home, knocking her opponent off from Pegasus, screaming. Though the wound was not lethal due to the well-made imperial armor, nor was the height, but Hilda’s timely axe fixed all problems.  
  
As soon as her Pegasus landed, Byleth jumped off it to check on Felix, who though seemed in no life danger thanks to Linhardt’s healing magic, was not in any shape to rejoin the fight.  
  
“What has gotten into you?” Byleth exclaimed, an unusually mood took hold of her. “Never mind. Take a horse and go back to the camp. We have the situation under control.”  
  
“No.” Felix refused hoarsely, sitting on ground and panting. Linhardt pried Felix fingers on the stricken arm open, and bound a wooden shaft onto it.  
  
“**No?**”Byleth repeated incredulously. “Very well. You have two fucking options: either you go back yourself, or I knock you out and have someone drag you back.” She weighed her lance in single hand, internally estimating the strength to knock him out without breaking his skull. Not that she really minded doing the latter. Or worried, since it appeared to be rahter thick.  
  
Felix stared at her for a long second, blood smeared on his face. Just as Byleth thought she had to knock him out, Felix gave in. “You win.” He sighed, averting the eye contact.  
  


* * *

They set a nearby chapel as the temporary infirmary. The moderately or heavily wounded were gathered in abandoned dormitory to receive healing. When Byleth came in, Claude, while being fussed over, was depicting vividly how he fought off the Death Knight. Byleth knew he was trying to lift the mood dampened by the extremely destructive pillars of light, but also suspected it had something to do with the admiring looks Marianne sent him.  
  
“…He was wielding the scary, absurdly huge scythe. And I was chasing by a mounted archer – There you are, teach!” Every head inside the room was turned to her. “You are extraordinary!” Claude laughed, and hissed in pain as he tore at the wound at his back. Marianne hurried to check if the wound was reopened.  
  
_He was too good a natural actor that maybe he could fool himself sometimes._ Byleth tried hard not to roll her eyes. “You did a great job too, Claude.” That much was true. “You distracted the enemy enough time to let us take hold. If not for your successful infiltration, we’d never take the stronghold down.”  
  
Someone huffed haughtily in the room. “A great job that includes letting enemy commander slip away right under one’s nose. Absolutely marvelous.” Felix’s comment was dripping with sarcasm.  
  
_So that was the reason he acted so rashly …_ Though for what reason Felix was so hell-bent on killing the Death Knight, Byleth could not fathom. “I’d rather having Claude alive so we could get the Death Knight the next time, than him killed before we even reach Anbarr.” Byleth replied dryly.  
  
“So you are saying you’d rather have either coward or the incompetent with you.” Felix mocked.  
  
“It is essential to know one’s limit and not waste lives, that is all.” _Why is Felix picking at me? I should be the one pissed off, not him._ “You, Felix, on the other hand, is another story. Why did you –” Byleth glanced around the room and found people looking at their argument nervously. She should leave this to a more private time. “Another time. Everyone has a done a good job. Please receive your healing and take enough rest. I have some church’s matters to attend.”  
Byleth left and felt Felix’s glares hot on her back.  
  


* * *

_ Five years ago._  
  
Felix was reading in the library, which was quiet and unoccupied at this time. Petra was reading sitting on the floor, frowning and silently mouthing words and occasionally flipped through a worn-out dictionary. Linhardt was fast asleep on another table, using his forearms as pillows with a mountain-like pile of books inclined dangerously towards his head. In such a sunny Saturday, most students were out riding, drinking tea in the garden or eating in the town, which was the reason Felix liked the library at this time. The lesser time wasted on fake socializing with his good-for-nothing noble schoolmates, the better for him. True, it was not allowed to talk aloud in the library, but you had to run into a hundreds of this kind of _conversations_ on the way. How on earth could anyone stand minutes after minutes, hours after hours of exchanging of words that convey little information, with people they have no interest in knowing except probing about their inheritance of lands, wealth and crests?  
  
On his way to searching for reading, he found the pathway between the bookshelf was blocked by Ingrid and Ashe. He cast a glance at the nearby books’ name and rolled his eyes at the stupid titles. Chivalrous romance novels. Huh. No wonder. Another kind of words that made his no less disgusted.  
  
As he was prepared to squeeze his way through, they called him to a stop.  
  
“I swear to Goddess, if you two are going to make read another of this crap –” Felix really had no patience for these.  
  
“No, it’s not like that!” Ashe denied quickly, freckled face suspiciously excited. “You remember the novel I gave you to read? Ingrid agrees with me! You are just like the main character!”  
  
Felix sighed. “I can’t control what the fool of a writer wrote down, but can you let this go? Life is not a fairy tale. Or a romance, in this case.”  
  
Ignoring him, Ashe resumed his imaginary narrating. “But I wonder how it would be for Felix to protect his lover against the enemies much stronger than him and never waiver, just like the final scene? The battle is written so spectacularly that I have not even seen others exceeding it. But to witness in reality would be even better than that!”  
  
“It would never happen.” Felix rolled his eyes.  
  
“You would not protect the person you love?” Ingrid asked disapprovingly.  
  
“I’ll never **have a lover,**. End of the story.” Felix tried again to move through but was stalled again.  
  
“Somehow I feel you are saying only because you want to hide your feelings.” Ashe said thoughtfully. “Which is what the hero do in this book.”  
  
Hot silently crept onto Felix’s face despite his desperate effort not to show it. He was never a refined actor, and this would be his retribution. Sensing the topic was running into a dangerous direction like an untrained and well-rested young horse out of its restrain, Felix realized he had to counter it. “Suppose I do have someone to protect, the idiocy of your hero is still beyond me. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, forced into an extremely disadvantageous position while protecting a weakling that never had shed a drop of blood in a whole life? Ridiculous. The seasoned warriors always say, ‘who strikes first strikes last’, ‘the best defense is offence’. That’s what I would do. I would attack positively, gain the upper hand and kill all my enemies one after another before they could never near anywhere I don’t want them to be.”  
  


* * *

After they returned to Garreg Mach, they resumed routine training and planning. The anxiety floated in the air, after all, the next target is Anbarr itself.  
  
Felix’s broken arm grew back in a matter of a few days by magic, but Byleth kept one close eye on him to prevent him overusing it in excessive training. Which was far easier than she expected, because now Felix refused to talk to her and walk away on the first sight of her, even during his favorite activity -- training.  
  
Whenever Byleth thought about that, her anger welled up too. Like right now. The tip of her feather pen broke through the paper and left an ugly ink stain on the sheet she was writing. This was so unfair. How the hell did he get to be angry? Wasn’t he the one who disobeyed the order and put himself in danger? Wasn’t he the one throw a tantrum and upset his companions? The more Byleth reflected on it, the surer she was that she did nothing wrong.  
  
Maybe except for saving his ungrateful sorry ass.  
  
The bell rung and Byleth smelled the saliva–inducing fragrance from the dining hall. She put her pen back to holder and stood up.  
  
She found Felix scratching a cat’s fur on her way to dining hall, and decided it was high time she talked to him. Felix saw and stopped his movement, but he didn’t run away.  
  
“Are you here to lecture me?” Felix questioned her coldly. “Even though the damn academy has been non-existent for five – almost six years?”  
  
“Even if the academy stops for a century.” Byleth answered firmly. “I want to know why you disobeyed order. You were chasing the Death Knight, am I correct?”  
  
Felix didn’t deny. So that guess was right.  
  
“Why are you so keen on killing him? Is it a personal dispute?”  
  
A muscle on his face twitched. “You could say that.”  
  
“Do you care to explain further?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Fair enough. And the next time we meet him on the battle field, are you going to challenge him despite I telling you otherwise?”  
  
“Yes. I had failed to kill him in Mercues and I’ll damned if I don’t do it in Anbarr.” He didn’t even bother pretending. Felix was so frustrating that had Byleth had a practice sword on her hand, she would definitely club it on his head. Hard. No mater if Felix was previously injured or not.  
  
“Fine. Then I can righteously ban you from going to the battlefield when we attack Anbarr. This is a battlefield, not a hunting game you could pick your prey.”  
  
Felix’s eyes widened. So he didn’t anticipate that after all. “I can still go.” But he clearly didn’t have much confidence about it.  
  
“Not if you are locked in Garreg Mach.”  
  
“You can’t do that!” He yelled.  
  
“Oh, I absolutely can do that!” Byleth snapped, “Don’t worry, it will not be a life sentence. You are free to go anywhere after I deal with the war.”  
  
Felix stared at her, first slightly horrified, which brought some smug joy to her; then disbelievingly, as if she was a total stranger.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one acting as if with a death wish.”  
  
Felix froze. “A death wish? Is that what you think of me?” Seeing Byleth narrows her eyes, he hurriedly added. “I knew I fucked up, but that was a mistake, I never asked for that!”  
  
“A mistake?” Byleth really wanted to strangle him. “Think about the situation, Felix. We used trick to get into the stronghold, outnumbered. And we just began to gaining the upper hand, there was still much space for the Death Knight to fight back if he had the will. I would not give up, had it been _up to me_. And suddenly, he was retreating. Use your brain for a tiniest second and tell me what it looks like.”  
  
Felix fell into silence, looking at the ground guiltily.  
  
“It smells like a fucking trap! As if he wants us to chase him. You see it now, don’t you? It is fine if you can’t realize it on battlefield. The intense fighting took most part of your attention. Which is one of the reasons you should listen to me. Not to mention we are fighting coordinately.”  
  
“You have a fair point.” Felix acknowledged, eyes fixed on the ground all the time. “I will obey you, but only under one condition.”  
  
Byleth almost laughed out. Obeying with conditions? Lysthea had a fair point that she and Claude gathered a bunch of weird people to fight together. “And what is your condition?”  
  
“Under no circumstance can you … give your life away to accomplish some bullshit higher purpose.” And he lifted his eyes finally, boring into Byleth’s fierily.  
  
“Says the one who deliberately put his life in danger.” Once the word left her mouth, Byleth regretted ever having said it. “I’m sorry. Of course. Do you remember when you asked why I was improving myself so diligently five years ago?”  
  
“You said you were a mercenary and you wanted to survive in battles.”  
  
“I’m no longer a mercenary but the motivation to survive never leaves me.” Byleth was surprised at his clear memory. It was only a few months for her but whole five years for him. “I was brought up by a mercenary and I may never able to think like a proper knight. I don’t agree with the praises they put in sacrificing. Maybe it is touching in literature, that someone dies to protecting their friends. But I don’t believe it actually works like that in reality. As far as I know, under normal circumstance the survival of individual is not at conflict with the overall victory of one’s side. Because the morale is like an iron bar, and deaths are like the rusts on it. People are either shaken or enraged by their ally’s death and make mistakes they usually would never. Then the mistakes cost other lives. Just as any new rust makes the iron rust more quickly. Until the morale breaks like the iron bar giving away to rusts.”  
  
“Still, there are conditions that require sacrifice.”  
  
“I’m not saying there isn’t. But I’m using everything I have to prevent it. And my tactics has not killed any classmates of our side, or me, so far. Try to be optimistic.”  
  
“I guess that’s … as best as you can promise.” Felix sighed. “Take me to Anbarr. I’ll do as you say.”  
  
“You are welcome to put up suggestions and objections as long as we are not in emergency.” Thinking of Felix’s previous words, Byleth leaned in hugged him. “Thanks for caring for my life.” She said into his shoulder.  
  
Felix flustered suspiciously as she released him. It took Byleth a moment, then all the dots were connected.  
  
Something dawned on her.  
  
To test her thought, Byleth stood on her toes and kissed Felix’s face. Felix didn’t pull away, or object. He just stood there, gaping, face flushed. Byleth smirked.  
  
And Felix ran away.  
  


* * *

At the end of day, it was neither Felix nor Byleth that took down the Death Knight. Felix was on the other end of Anbarr and Byleth was occupied covering Seteth on the canal that cut the metropolitan in halves.  
  
The wariness Byleth felt as she leaves the Palace was rarely rivaled. No matter mentally or physically, she just wanted to find a spot to drop down and sleep through. Ferdinand suggested they all could go to his late father’s old estate so they all went, and Byleth had little memory about the afterwards the second day she woke up.  
  
The southern sun shinned through windows and birds chirping outsides was what woke her up, she guessed. Then she realized someone else was sleeping besides her, from the warmth on her back and the breath sent into her hair. She looked down herself, praying at the meantime that she didn’t accidently _sleep with_… unwanted people. A blanket covered her and she felt the presence of the clothes she put on before equipping the armor.  
  
As soon as she tried to move her body, an arm circling her torso tightened. “Don’t.” Felix’s sleepy voice came from behind. Byleth relaxed. She opened her mouth, but sneezes came out before words. The estate was deserted for a long and dusted.  
  
“A better first night than I expected.” Byleth commented after the sneezing died down, “Unbathed and in a dusted guest room. At least I’m not drunk.”  
  
Felix hummed and the she felt the vibration on her back. She turned and Felix was awake too. His face was so soft in the morning sunlight. She buried her face into Felix’s chest, listening to the gentle rustle of his breathing. These wordless stationary seconds made her calmer and more unafraid of what was to come, than a hundred pieces of passionate rhetoric ever could.  
  
“I love you.” Byleth didn’t know what promoted the words, but they came so naturally.  
  
“Takes you long enough to come around.” Felix half-heartily mocked.  
  
“Is it my fault? Excuse me but it is you that said you didn’t want romance on the Tower of –”  
  
“Please stop bringing that up.” Felix whined, cutting in. “Are you trying to shame me to death?”  
  
Byleth smiled. “No. And I believe we can make through the war together.”  
  
Thinking about that … Byleth sat up, removed the blanket from them. And reached out to peel up his shirts.  
  
Felix caught her hands tightly. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Nothing. Just take a look at your old injury.” Felix retracted his hand as if been electrified, face burning.  
  
The scar on his waist was faded now, but Byleth could not help touching it with her fingers. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“What for? And stop doing that. You are tickling me.”  
  
Byleth let out a small laugh, forcing back her tears that came out of nowhere, which alarmed Felix. He bolted up and grabbed her shoulders. “I’m sorry for being angry at you when you were just trying to help, in a wrong way notwithstanding.” Byleth sniffed childishly. “But I got scared and I masked my fear with anger. I was a bit scared that I might not be able to save you in time, but that is not the major reason.”  
  
“Then what?”  
  
“I don’t know how to explain it in a rational way. It’s a gut feeling I suppose. I somehow feel that you are not only unafraid of death, but also welcoming it, in a way. Perhaps it is related to Faerghus, perhaps my mind deduces it because you never talk about future plans that don’t involve danger.” She blurted the absurd thought out through misty eyes.  
  
Felix stared at her motionlessly. “I heard about the rumors that you are the reincarnation of Goddess, I thought it was a stupid notion but now I’m not so sure.” He sighed, tucking her under his chin. “That is … closer to mark than I can express it myself. But that was the past. I think differently now, though. For there are things to look forward to. And you idiot to keep an eye on. Do you have any idea how you end up in this room? You fell asleep right in the carriage and I had to carry you all the way.”  
  
All reply Byleth could think of was kissing his jaw and enjoying the sight of his flushed cheeks.  
  


* * *

_Two years later._  
  
It was a chilly spring night and Byleth was reading in the bedroom shared by Felix and her. The door opened and Felix came in. He had taken his sword and shield down in the armory downstairs, and washed his hands and face clean. But there were still blood stains on his shirt.  
  
Byleth raised her teacup in a mock toasting. “Here returns the true swordmaster of Fodlan, victorious in yet another action.”  
  
Felix walked to her back, fingers tangled in the lace of her gown and gently nipped at her ear.  
  
“Another enemy of yours is dead. And it is time to claim my reward.” He whispered.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kind of inspired by N7 day feels?


End file.
